


It is Only a Fairy Tale

by thedragonthateatsitstail (goodbye_sweetie)



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Kink Meme, F/M, Kink Meme, Qunari, Qunari x Dwarf Loving, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 07:38:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodbye_sweetie/pseuds/thedragonthateatsitstail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink Meme Fill:  Varric Tethras has fallen head over heels for the mighty Inquisitor, a female qunari and mage unlike any he has ever met.  She may tower over him, but that only adds to his fantasies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It is Only a Fairy Tale

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for:  
> Qunari Inquisitor/Varric, poss. size kink
> 
> Qunari Inquisitor (either male or female is fine) develops a HUGE crush on/falls in love with Varric or vice versa (or it's mutual, mutual is very good). And then they have sex!  
> Just anything Q!I/Varric please, because I have a need. Sex not necessary, though I wouldn't say no.
> 
> Bonus:  
> Size kink/Amazon kink (if female)/both  
> \---
> 
> It was quickly written and self edited so blatant errors may exist. I am just hoping to start the Female Qunari x Varric smut train that Inquisition will bring.

Varric hated this feeling. After Bianca, he had sworn to never do this again. He was a grown man, not some love struck teen. He deflected advances with humor and was a simple man of one-night stands and broken hearts. He didn’t want the emotional baggage that love involved. He had tried that once and he still ached a little whenever someone said her name.

He had gone through so much with Hawke and their band of misfits. He was tired of saving the day and all of the troubles that it included. But somehow a tall, quiet, qunari woman had been able to convince him to return. Saarannan Adaar the Grand Inquisitor and current object of his utter frustration. Varric didn’t know whether to write grand prose or curse her name some days.

Swirling his Antivan brandy, he tried to focus on writing his next great tale. He was too distracted with these thoughts of her. His epic tales of a wayward Templar and a mage had suddenly deviated into a much larger woman with horns and a handsomely charming dwarf. Balling the paper in his hands he threw it to the floor. Sighing he rested his head on the desk, and tried to clear his unfocused mind.

Inquisitor Adaar was a beautiful and statuesque woman who though strict, was fair, intelligent, and kind. She was incredibly strong and one of the most ferocious mages he had ever met. She valiantly charged into battle and used her bladed staff and shear strength to turn the tides. Varric found himself often watching her in awe: her more lilac than grey colored skin, long silver hair, piercing golden eyes, and rippling muscular form were what legends were made of. But those were not the reasons that Varric had found himself searching for jokes that would make her smile, or buying her golden earrings and clips for her hair even though he had never worked up the courage or the right joke to gift them to her. 

The first time he had felt that characteristic twinge in his chest was probably an embodiment of their entire relationship. She had tackled him to the ground when a golem had turned to crush him. It was so strange to be completely enveloped by a woman’s muscular frame. Her hair shrouded his face, and if the giant didn’t lift her from him in the next moment, he might have considered kissing her. That was the first time that he noticed she smelt like spices and that even when being mauled battle always brought a quirk to her lip. At the time, he thought it might have just been the wind getting knocked out of him by a seven foot something qunari that had turned the moment poetic, but alas he never quite snapped out of that jittery moment.

She just kept doing these little things that he would notice out of the corner of his eye; endearing and a small chip in that barrier that she put between herself and everyone else. In front of her men, she stood tall and strong, her posture was perfect. She was the leader they needed, and though many were skeptical in the beginning, she had earned their respect. Whenever she spoke to the crowds, she would clench her fist as if containing the elements that shot from her hands. He was never sure if it was a nervous tick or her preparing to defend herself in the event of a riot. 

When it was just their small group making camp along the road, she would sit and listen intently to their stories. Her eyes would always flick up to whoever was speaking before she would focus back on whatever task she had set to keep her hands busy. Sometimes when she felt his gaze land upon her for too long, she would quirk her brow and her hand would run across the multiple earrings in her ear. His heart fluttered whenever she did that, and he often found his intricate sentences falling short. He was worried the others had started to notice.

Running his fingers along the paper he contemplated where to start again. The only words he wanted to put down had nothing to do with the templar and mage, heavily based upon the ex Knight Lieutenant and First Enchanter in their company. No, he wanted to write about his less than chaste dreams that featured a stoic but beautiful qunari and a dwarf all too unprepared for what he was going to do. Downing his drink, he sighed and resigned himself to writing it out and then burning the whole thing. Maybe it would finally give him the courage to give her one of the earrings he had picked up in Orlais. 

 

\-----------  
 _Warick Tathra was not a noble man; he was not known as a hero or savior. He was the man with connections, and a silver tongue that could convince anyone of his cause. Alas, he was also a coward, an infuriating coward._

_Warick served the savior of a world falling to pieces. To many, she was feared. Her race had conquered much of the known world without batting an eyelash, and many still remembered the scars they left behind. But Annaraasan was not like them, an orphan of Tal-Vashoth abandoned in the city. In fact, she was something of an abomination to them: a female mage and battle maiden with an eye for strategy. But Warick saw her as she was; she was a woman with amazing talents and a beautiful frame, but a woman nonetheless. She desired comfort and love, just as any other man or woman did._

_That was what Warick really wanted; he wanted to be her comfort, her solace. He wanted to be there when she needed a shoulder to cry upon. No one had seen the cracks in the face that she had put on for the world, but he did. He understood all of the little things she hid from everyone. She hated the Templar’s cooking, and didn’t understand why the First Enchanter refused to get bloody until she had “broken in” her new gown. She enjoyed playing chess with their Nevarran warrior, and braided her own hair quietly by the fire before she went to bed, a look of calm coming over her face that he only ever saw in that moment._

_Warick was a coward though; his confession the previous night had just fallen short of what he had wanted to say to her. With all of his silver-tongued magic, he failed to tell her that he loved the freckles across her nose, and the way her forehead wrinkled when she read an Orlesian letter from the nobility. He wanted to tell her that he loved her rough callused hands, and how she always woke at dawn to train, even when she drank the others under the table. He loved that she was taller than humans and many other qunari, and how she could easily lift most men simply due to the build of her frame._

_Warick had never verbalized it, but that was one of the things that he often thought about in his bunk. He wanted to cover the endless plains of her body with his lips and tongue, and feel those rough hands lift him against the wall. He desired to feel her muscles tense as he brushed against her most sensitive peaks. He thought about her hands running over his chest, pulling at his hair and nipping at his neck. That passion that ran rampant during battle, he wanted to give her that rush. To pull that smile that she held right before she entered the storm from her on a breathless sigh. But alas, that was just a rushed wet dream, only meant for the nights when loneliness consumed him._

_He had haphazardly confessed his feelings to her the day before, and just as she opened her mouth to respond, that damned Templar had stumbled through the door, a blush on his face and that characteristic stutter that happened only in the Savior’s presence. Updates to the food stores and regulations could have waited for morning, the kid just held a grudge from Warick’s pervious encounters with him. He should have shot him when he had the chance._

_The Savior had not said a word to Warick since, and was in-fact avoiding him as if he had the Orlesian mumps. She had even gone so far as taking her evening meal in her room. So now Warick was left pacing his room, searching for the words to salvage whatever relationship they had left._

_Warick mumbled to himself trying to find the words, trying to think of something- anything that could make her forget what he had said. Nothing came out right. None of it elicited the response that he needed. “Anna, about what I said earlier, I… Anna, I didn’t… Savior, we go… My Lady… Son of a nug humper!” He pushed the ink and paper off of his desk and growled in defeat. Leaning on his forearms, he rubbed his temples lightly and pushed against the wrinkles that had formed across his forehead. He had become an old fool: sentimental and tripping over his own tongue. What good was a silver tongue if he couldn’t even form a proper apology?_

_“Warick, am I interrupting you?” Her voice sent a shock of cold sweat down his spine. Of course, she would appear now of all times. She always had an impeccable sense of timing. Had she finally come to tell him off? Flipping around, and leaning back casually as if he had intended for her to interrupt his little inner monologue, he gave her his best grin. Maintaining a cool exterior was half the battle after all._

_“Good evening, my Lady. How may I be of service?” His usual teasing tone was broken by a quaver at the end. Bowing slightly with a flourished hand wave, he could feel her penetrating gaze analyzing his every move. He had seen that look many times before, just never directed at him. Swallowing nervously, his mouth suddenly dry, Warrick quirked his brow and adjusted his collar. She looked like she was determining the best method to interrogate him. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest and the lump in his throat made it hard to breathe. It felt a bit like standing on a precipice with her hands around his neck. “This is about yesterday. We were interrupted before I could give you a proper response.” Ah, that was the sound of rejection._

_“I do not know how to phrase this properly. I have never had to do this before.” He could hear the anxiety in her tone, and he tried to put his most charming smile on. Warick didn’t want her to fret over this; he understood that he had put a lot of unnecessary pressure on her. It was weird to be asked by a man so different from her; after all he had never seen her be anything but platonic and civil to everyone in their company. “It is alright, Anna. I was drunk… I…”_

_Before he could stammer out another excuse, she had closed the space between them and lifted him by his waist, bringing him to her eye level. “That is not what I meant. Let me rephrase.” Her lips crushed against his, and before he could overthink it his eyes had slammed shut and his arms wound around her neck._

_She tasted just as he had imagined; all spice and heady lust. Despite the sharper canines, her wet warmth was familiar and the way her tongue wrapped around his sent sparks straight into his groin. Even in his wildest dreams he couldn’t imitate the soft sighs and groans Anna made. Warick planned on memorizing every crevice of her smooth mouth and warm lips before this night was through. If this would be his only opportunity to be with her, he would commit it all to memory._

_Her hands readjusted and his weight now rested on her firm grip around his ass. She squeezed him lightly and nipped at his bottom lip, signaling him to adjust his weight. Falling was not in the agenda tonight. His legs wrapped around her hips and she in turn rolled into him playfully. It was hard to find purchase against a wall of muscle and soft skin, and Warick had never been in this position before. He had been with tall women, but never like Anna. He was already embarrassingly hard for this point in their evening, and really if he made it through the night without finishing early, he would call it a win._

_“I believe my rephrasing answered your question, no?” Her voice pulled him out of his lusty haze for a moment. She was breathless and there was a wicked twinge to the question that made his hips rock into her harder. Warick wanted to laugh and offer a witty retort, but the way she nibbled on her swollen lips and smirked at him was far too distracting. Kissing her on the chin sweetly, his calloused and rough hands ran across her horns. He had always been curious as to how sensitive they truly were. Her mouth quirked as he brushed against the long shaft, but she didn’t pull away. She didn’t seem to feel it or mind until his fingers brushed along the root and tangled in her hair._

_He would remember the noise that she made for the rest of his life. Without warning she turned them to the side and his back hit the wall with a very loud thump. Tomorrow morning, he would have to stop by the healers to check and see if he had broken his skull. With the wall to support them, her hands were free to explore. Those same hands that he had seen break a man’s neck, were working on his shirt and scraping against his very sensitive chest. Her nails brushed against his nipple and her lips and teeth nipped and sucked against the stubble of his throat. The others could probably hear his groans through the walls, but he didn’t care. It had been far too long and this was too much to hold back. “Bed, Anna.” He couldn’t keep up this pace for much longer._

_“Are you the commander now, Warick?” Though slightly breathy, she sounded every bit the leader of armies. Maker, he wanted her naked immediately. “No ma’am. I just wouldn’t want to disappoint the Savior.” Pressing her forehead against his, she scoffed against his lips. “Good. I only recruit the best.” Leaning downward, she sucked at the junction where his shoulders met his neck, leaving a mark he was sure the others would see the next day. It really shouldn’t have been such a thrilling thought._

_Once she had finally pulled the buttons free, her hands drifted to the bottom of his thighs. Briefly looking down Warick realized for the first time how large her hands were. Maker, he wanted her hands all over him. Squeezing lightly, she picked him up and began moving them towards the bed. He would never be able to tell her how hard it made him when she handled him so easily._

_Anna dropped him onto the bed with a satisfied grin. She could clearly feel his excitement pressed against her stomach as they moved. Warick bounced as he hit the bed, a shocked laugh of glee coming forward. The creature comforts of a stuffed bed should never be underestimated. Shuffling backwards, he tried to keep a straight face as he slipped on the sheets. It was hard to keep up his suave demeanor in the Savior’s presence. Once he found a comfortable position, he leaned back onto the pillows and began unlacing his pants as quickly as possible. Shrugging out of his shirt, he could feel her hungry eyes on him. Perhaps he hadn’t been the only one who had waited._

_As he pulled his pants down around his ankles, she began unlatching her light armor, and pulling her undershirt over her head. Her long hair, jingling from the ornaments and ties, covered her wrapped breasts. They were both far too gone to play strip tease and with his eyes staring at her so intently, she pulled the last of her clothing off with a smile and arched brow. Her piercings glittered in the light and found himself palming his erection just for some relief. Biting her lip, Anna pulled the last of her breast band free; her hands ran over her breasts teasing her already hard nipples. “Warick…”_

_He wanted more time to look at her, to memorize every scar and mole across her body. She was better than he had ever imagined, almost angelic with her white hair and golden eyes. “You are stunning.” The words had slipped from his lips before he could censor them. He saw the shock in her expression, and it sent a pang into his chest. How did she not know how magnificent she was? No ballad a bard produced would ever do her justice. “Thank you. You are handsome for a dwarf. I have excellent taste.” Ah, there was that qunari charm: concise and slightly sarcastic all at once. Sometimes he had to remind himself her horned peers hadn’t raised her._

_Leaning forward, a curtain of hair and gold, she crawled her way across his bed. She reminded him of a lioness approaching her prey. “Warick, I have wanted this for some time. Tell me if I am being too… rough.” He wasn’t sure whether he should laugh or consider it seriously. Judging by her expression, she sincerely believed the latter. “You break it, you buy it. I will be fine, my lady.” When she had finally overlapped him, his robust hands combed through her hair and their lips met in a sweet but soft kiss. Her eyes met his, and she smiled earnestly, almost shyly. “This may take a bit of adjusting.”_

_Her hand wrapped around his hardened length, and Anna began peppering his neck with kisses. The feel of her battle callused hand moving so slowly was maddening. With a teasing nip to his neck, she straddled his legs with her own and leaned her weight on her forearm. Warick bucked up into her like a schoolboy, his back arched up at a painful angle. Maker, it was the little things that made all the difference._

_That sweet soft mouth worked downward and grazed across his nipples. Warick moaned out something that might have been Anna’s name or perhaps some prayer that this wasn’t a dream. Her thumb brushed across his tip and her hand squeezed and twisted in such a way that his eyes rolled back into his head. His fingers deftly trailed across her skin, tracing patterns until goose bumps appeared._

_“Tell me what you want, Warick,” she licked across his ear and nibbled his earlobe lightly._

_“I want you to ride me. I want to see you take me in inch by inch and beg me to fuck you harder,” his voiced cracked and his hands buried in his hair, but he was positive that was the correct answer. Anna exhaled a haggard breath and then her grip tightened around him and her hips gyrated down into his legs harshly. For a moment he thought he might have come in her hand. “Anna, I can’t… please. I need you.” He was falling to pieces in her hands._

_Her breath hitched and for a moment he could feel her magic pulse through her hand. Perhaps it was a sterilization spell? He had heard mages using such a thing in the heat of the moment. Leaning backwards, she sat up completely and her hand trailed from his bobbing erection. His hips followed after her and Warick let out a whine. “Anna, please.”_

_Anna steadied herself upon his chest and shifted forward so that her warm wet heat was just above his engorged member. She paused a moment searching his expression for any last hesitation before leaning forward and enveloping him fully. Warick’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and suddenly he was seeing stars. His hands trailed up her thighs and held her hips. He needed a moment to catch his breath and settle. This was about her, not just some quick release. Maker, he was not going to last long at all._

_Her hips rocked downwards slowly and her breath evened as she raked her nails down his chest. She was gorgeous, a goddess, and she knew exactly how much he adored her. He felt small sparks as her large hands skimmed down his sides and settled at his waist. Anna smirked at him as her hips snaked in just the right way; his startled gasp made her moan sinfully. She must have been a desire demon in her past life._

_Warick began to coil his hips upwards trying to find a steady pace. His hands flexed around her hips and her thighs clenched around him in return. His unsure thrusts soon began to build a rhythm, and he began to speed up as she moaned his name. Her pace stuttered as he bucked harder, her hands skimming across his chest and up to her own breasts, pinching her nipples salaciously. This was the image he would think about every night in his bunk._

_Warick sat up, using his grip on her hips as leverage. He was not quite tall enough to reach her lips, but he was able to push away her hands and take her nipple into his mouth. Her hand threaded through his hair and the other wrapped around his back. She tilted her hips so that she fit in his lap a little better. The new angle had Anna making a delightful keening noise. Her body rocked faster and the trinkets in her hair jingled in their vigor. “Warick, I am so close.”_

_He looked up at her in amazement. He could feel her warm wet heat gripping around him, and at this angle his cock was clearly brushing against her g-spot. At this point he had lost all semblances of a rhythm and his ground into her searching for release. His hand snaked between them searching for her pearl. He didn’t want to disappoint on their first try. “You are stunning. Anna, come for me.” Her back arched and she leaned forward to seal their lips together._

_With a few more sputtering gasps and a cry of “Warick”, he could feel her flutter and tense around him. Her hands knotted in his hair and her nails dug into his back, as she tried to catch her breath. Warick continued pumping upwards, blindly searching for his release. A few strokes more, and he too was falling over the precipice of pleasure._

_He crumpled into her, while he tried to find his bearing. She supported his weight with her arm, and ran her fingers through his hair lightly. Leaning forward, she rested her horned forehead against his. “That wasn’t too terrible.”_

\-----------

 

Varric added the page to his stack and rested his forehead on his desk. It was poorly written, focused too much on the hero, and lacked enough foreplay to ever consider allowing anyone to see it. No, he did this for him, and when morning came, he would look it over and burn it. Palming the erection that had blossomed during his eager writing, he stood and decided to find something to eat and perhaps stronger ale. Hopefully the Inquisitor would not be around to find him half hard and covered in ink.

Cassandra watched Varric grumble down the hallway. He had ink on his face, and seemed to be in a foul mood. She was on her usual night rounds and had considered stopping by Varric’s room to pick up one of the cheap romance novels he kept on his shelf. They had an agreement in which she would tell him Nevarran folk tales in exchange for his silence towards her questionable readings. 

Pacing in front of Varric’s door, Cassandra’s curiosity finally got the best of her. Varric and she were on good terms now. He wouldn’t mind her peeking at his progress on his latest friend fiction piece. Perhaps he had some writer’s block, and all he needed was a bit of encouragement. She opened the door and slipped into his room. The floor was littered with failed drafts and his desk had a sizeable stack of what seemed to be a new book. 

She wanted to be the better person and leave before Varric could come back and catch her, but she was a remarkably fast reader and this seemed like less than one of Varric’s larger chapters. Cursing slightly to herself, she sat in Varric’s chair and looked around the room again. She felt a bit like a naughty child stealing from the cookie jar. This was nonsense though, she was just going to read what was bothering him, and then leave immediately.

Picking up the papers, Cassandra began to read Varric’s newest tale. As soon as she started, she knew exactly what this was about. Cassandra had watched Varric slowly fall in love with the Inquisitor. She was a magnificent woman, and Varric seemed to know her best. For months now she had watched Varric try to catch the Inquisitors eye. He saved his best jokes for her and often traded poorly for earrings she had never seen him give the qunari woman. She was the only person in Thedas who could make Varric Tethras stutter.

Cassandra continued to flip through the pages, a dark blush staining her cheeks. Varric had always had a very vivid talent. He could turn any story into an adventure, and could coerce anyone to his whims. Why he struggled to find the right words for their stoic leader, Cassandra couldn’t say. Perhaps he just needed a little push.

Placing the papers back onto Varric’s desk, Cassandra slipped out of his room and down the hall. She was a Seeker of the Chantry. She was fully capable of making a pair of completely opposite and stubbornly emotionally daft people realize they are in love, right?


End file.
